


jell(yfish)o shots

by Pinkmanite



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Hockey, Frat Star!Kaner, Gen, Lifeguard!Jonny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/Pinkmanite
Summary: Groaning, Kaner turns around and is met with a very angry-looking lifeguard.“Hey man, I’m just trying to get this little guy back out to sea, chill.” Dismissively, Kaner turns back around to focus on the task at hand. He splashes at it in an attempt to push it back into the deeper water.“Um,” the lifeguard says incredulously, “are you serious?”





	jell(yfish)o shots

Kaner’s pretty sure he’s sunburnt as fuck but he’s still got an hour before his parole officer will let him call it quits. It’d be easier enough to go hide out in the crowd, maybe find some shade and an icey cold beer (honestly, he’d be down for anything right now, even something as low as a PBR, okay? He’s  _ that _ desperate), but he’s already got a month of this shit and his dad said he wouldn’t bail him out ever again. 

He’s not really sure why, it’s not like three times is a lot. Plus one of those wasn’t even his fault and like, he was seventeen at the time so it hadn’t even gone on his permanent record. So really it’s just two times, according to the books, anyway. Kaner would know. He’s good at math.

Honestly, this stupid beach is fucking filthy, which is weird because Kaner’s never noticed and he’s been getting fucked up here since freshman year. Man, that was a good year. He kind of misses gen-eds and the drinking binges that would substitute subsequent nonexistent coursework.

Kaner’s good at math but math has lots of homework and that’s totally _not_ _awesome_. 

Neither is this stupid orange vest or this stupid beach or the stupid garbage all over the goddamn place. Kaner’s kind of amazed at how much fucking shit is everywhere. He decides that he hasn’t any faith left in humanity, not after the awful morning’s he had.

Kaner doesn’t think he’ll ever enjoy the beach ever again.

Reconciling with his fate, Kaner begrudgingly continues to stab at the never-ending trash, safely depositing it in the stupid garbage bag he’s already been lugging around for a good mile. Cans are his least favorite but he doesn’t like chip bags any better. 

The worst is when shit’s in the water. Technically, Kaner  _ could _ ignore it and let the tide carry that shit away. Except last week Shawzy made him watch this documentary for bio with him. And Kaner’s a good big bro, probably the best in his frat, so  _ of course _ he tried not to fall asleep while making sure his lil’ bro didn’t fall asleep either. Anyway, the whole damn thing was on penguins and it had this part about how they choke and on like, ocean litter.

They were so cute and fluffy and then they  _ died _ .

Kaner’s got a  _ heart,  _ alright? He’s not a real criminal, just a dude who likes to have a little too much fun. He couldn’t live with himself if he left garbage in the water and single handedly murdered a poor innocent penguin. That’s just a whole new level.

Sure, Kaner comes off a little rough sometimes and maybe his parents are this close to writing him out of the will and redistributing his trust fund to his sisters, but he likes to think he’s got a heart big enough to ache for poor, helpless animals. 

Which is why he freak the fuck out when he sees an  _ actual jellyfish _ floating around in the shallow tide. 

Alright, in retrospect, maybe it would’ve been smart to turn around and check the lifeguard tower to see if they even had jellyfish warnings up, but Kaner’s most definitely a doer and not much of a thinker. And he’s definitely a man of the moment, ready and raring to go at the drop of a hat. Well, a metaphorical hat because if he’d been wise enough to grab a physical hat this morning, he probably wouldn’t be so goddamn red right now. 

Wait, fuck, hold that thought. The jellyfish is getting way too fucking close, he’s gotta go in  _ now _ .

So Kaner drops what he’s doing (literally), kicks off his sandals, and rushes into the tide with obnoxiously large and loud splashes every time he picks up his feet. 

One particularly large splash may or may not drench a small child but Kaner doesn’t stick around to find out. The angry mother just wouldn’t understand. Her kid is just routine collateral damage in the line of saving a life. It’s honorable, really.

To avoid any further casualties, however, Kaner decides he should probably alert the bystanders in the vicinity of the rescue site. In fact, from the top of his lungs, he screeches a frightening, “JELLYFISH!” that turns out to be a little more intense than he was gunning for. He knows because someone screams and someone else starts frantically running back to shore. Whoops.

Now with a clearer path, Kaner’s just about within reach of the poor lost and lonely jellyfish when there’s a deliberately loud splash and a very authoritative “STOP!” from right behind him.

Groaning, Kaner turns around and is met with a very angry-looking lifeguard.

“Hey man, I’m just trying to get this little guy back out to sea, chill.” Dismissively, Kaner turns back around to focus on the task at hand. He splashes at it in an attempt to push it back into the deeper water.

“Um,” the lifeguard says incredulously, “are you serious?”

Kaner guffaws, “of course I’m serious. Do you not care about marine life? Isn’t that like, part of your job? Asshole.”

“Look, I’m sorry man,” the lifeguard says, “but that stranded jellyfish you’re trying to save is actually a plastic bag.”

Kaner freezes mid-splash. He doesn’t turn around but he squints at the jellyfish and looks at it. Really looks at it. Studies its pattern and features and--

Oh.

And it’s lack of stingers. 

Huh. Guess it’s a plastic bag.

“Well,” Kaner singsongs cheerily, “guess that means I’m just doing my job. Removing garbage from the beach and all. I’m just such an overachiever, don’t worry, I’m well aware--”

He gets cut off when a huge ass wave comes out of nowhere and completely nails him, drenching him head to toe in salt water. Kaner tries to cough it up because he’s fairly certain he got it up his nose.

The lifeguard is a little bit more wet but otherwise perfectly fine. He looks all smug, the corners of his mouth kind of twitching like he’s trying not to outright laugh. Kaner’s vaguely offended. What a douchebag. 

“You good there?” The lifeguard motions for him to follow back to shore. Kaner only obeys because he’s not really in the mood to go deep sea diving with plastic bags.

“I’m soaked,” Kaner complains in reply. Which is true. Despite his wishes, he didn’t even wear swim trunks to this community service thing. He’s not the most presentable person all the time, but he’s got a little bit of common sense. Last thing he needs is his parole getting pissy at him because of his stupid shorts.

Kaner thinks that retrospectively, it might’ve been worth it.

“My underwear is  _ drenched _ ,” Kaner continues unhappily, “I’m going to like, chafe and shit”

“You probably will,” the lifeguard agrees. Kaner scowls.

But taking pity on him, the lifeguard says, “come on, you can borrow something from lost and found.”

“Sweet!” Kaner fist pumps. The lifeguard rolls his eyes.

“Here,” he picks up Kaner’s trash picking stuff and shoves it at him. “What are you in for, frat boy?”

“Dude how’d you know,” Kaner whines. 

“Um, you’re wearing an orange vest and picking up trash, that usually means you’re serving a sentence.”

“Not that,” Kaner says, “the frat boy part.”

The lifeguard laughs way too hard for Kaner not to be annoyed. “You’re joking right? You’re like a textbook frat douche.”

“Hey!” Kaner interjects defensively.

“Plus,” the lifeguard adds smugly, “you’re wearing a Beta Eta shirt.”

“Oh,” Kaner blinks. “Wait. You  _ asshole _ .”

The lifeguard laughs again, full and cheery and confident and so  _ smug. _ Kaner kinda likes the sound of it. He’s really feeling it in a way that makes him think he’d like to hear it more often. 

Well in that case: “Hey, I’m Kaner, by the way.”

The lifeguard lifts a curious eyebrow at him but replies cautiously, “Jonny.”

“Ya come here often, Jonny?” Kaner grins and does the thing where he angles his head down and looks up while fluttering his eyelashes a couple of times.

Jonny blinks and then starts  _ really _ laughing. 

And not in the way that Kaner was gunning for.

“Are you,” Jonny gasps through his laughter, almost wheezing, “are you  _ seriously _ trying to hit on me after the shit you just pulled?”

Kaner frowns because “come on man, it was an act of heroism. I’m just trying to save the planet and all.”

Jonny rolls his eyes but he’s smiling this time. “Would you even be here if you weren’t doing community service?”

Um  _ yeah, _ playing drunk volleyball with his boys and dartying with the APhis. But he doesn’t tell Jonny that. Instead he gives him the short version. “I’m here all the damn time, asshole. Vest or nah.”

Shrugging, Jonny doesn’t fight him on it. He walks a little bit more ahead so Kaner has a quality view of Jonny’s nicely toned shoulders. And his beautiful ass. Kaner’s kind of in awe. But soon they’ve made it to the lifeguard tower so Jonny ushers him up the steps and through the door.

No one else is here but it makes sense since it’s a weekday and isn’t really considered peak time. Jonny must be the only guard on duty. 

Heh. Just the two of them, then. Kaner can definitely work with this.

He wiggles his eyebrows and says, “so Jonny--”

“I know what you’re thinking and you can end it right there,” Jonny barely spares him a glance, “because the security office is in the next room.”

Right on cue, this guy in a sandy dark uniform pipes up to say, “no dick downs on the clock, Toews!” to which Jonny goes bright red. The guy’s lounging back in a rolling chair with his legs propped up on the desk. There’s sand literally everywhere and it makes Kaner feel kinda gross.

“Shut up, Seabs,” is all Jonny comes back with. Weak, man.

Kaner presses, “so you’d dick me down if there wasn’t a dude back there, huh?” 

Jonny pointedly ignores him. 

Still smirking, Seabs points at Kaner and says, “so what’s up with your little felon friend, then?”

“I’m not a felon,” Kaner pouts, “I got written up for _public_ _intoxication,_ ” he says his charge in one of those dumb mimicking voice. “Which is completely unfair because it wasn’t like I was the only one drinking. I was just having fun, you know? God forbid there’s _fun_ these days--”

“We get it, frat boy,” Jonny interrupts. “Look, there’s some towels over in the corner and then lost and found is in Seabs’ office over there. I gotta go back out now so help yourself.” Jonny pauses, like he was going to say something but has to rethink it. Eventually he settles on kicking open the door with a short wave. “See you around, Kaner.”

“See ya, Jonny.”

 

~

 

Kaner’s prohibited from participating in all fraternity events and it sucks  _ major _ ass.

It’s not fair because it’s not like Kaner’s got a  _ real _ criminal record or anything. He’s a great brother,  _ exceptional _ , even. This organization would be nothing without him, alright? And Kaner’s not sure he’d be anything without his organization.

Kaner  _ feels _ like nothing without his organization.

So he sulks in his room and keeps glaring at Shawzy, who’s currently tearing apart Kaner’s desk in an attempt to find Kaner’s crest badge.

“Sharpy’s going to know right away that it’s mine and not yours,” Kaner mumbles the blanket fort he’s built on Shawzy’s bed. 

Shawzy shoots him a glare, “he’ll know but he won’t say anything. Sucks your Big loves me more than you.”

“Grandbigs always love their grand-littles more,” Kaner points out. “Plus you’re just spoiled.”

Shawzy makes a face and mimics, “plus  _ you’re _ just spoiled,” he sticks out his tongue, “except in real life.”

“Hey man,” Kaner puts his hands up, surrendering, “that’s just too real. Yikes.”

Shawzy rolls his eyes, “dude it won’t be a problem if I can’t even find your damn badge.”

“What was your plan before I got grounded, huh?” Kaner pushes. “Whose badge were you gonna cop? Your  _ other _ Big Bro?”

“Yeah, the better Big Bro,” Shawzy replies without any heat. “Nah, I was just gonna steal yours anyway.”

“I would’ve let you,” Kaner admits, “Sharpy wouldn’t have chewed  _ me _ out. I’m his favorite Little.”

“You’re his only Little.”

“And your point?” Kaner restly shuffles around the bedding.

“My point is that you’re his favorite Little and he still doesn’t cut you slack on this stupid probation shit.”

Kaner groans because they’ve been over this already.  _ Kaner’s _ been over this in his head, all by himself, a million times already. But he can’t put that kind of expectation on Sharpy, no matter how close they are, to abuse his officer position just for him. Sharpy’s a man of honor and Kaner would rather die than be the Worst Little Ever and fuck that up.

Kaner just kind of wishes that Sharpy hadn’t run for Disciplinary Officer because he kind of misses dragging him into bad ideas. Man, they grow up so fast. Kaner frowns just thinking about it.

Shawzy’s looking at him sympathetically. “Dude you need to get out of here. You’re just kinda… sad.”

“Yeah no,” Kaner says, “where do you expect me to go? I’d rather be  _ sad _ in my own room.”

“Okay yeah no, you definitely need to go out. I don’t care where, but as your friend I’m kicking you out.”

Kaner flops back on his bed and groans. “Fine, I’m going for a run. Just so I don’t have to listen to you nag.”

“I meant something more like the bar, you know.”

Kaner rolls his eyes. “Take what you can get, man.”

 

~

 

He ends up on the boardwalk.

It’s not like he planned on it or anything. Kaner doesn’t go running often, so it’s not like he has a set route. Honestly, he’d just been wandering kind of aimlessly, but he supposes that all roads eventually lead to the water. He’s spent way too much time at the beach in the past few days but apparently his subconscious disagrees. 

Or maybe his subconscious just has a sixth sense for hot off-duty lifeguards.

There’s a dude just chillin on a bench, relaxed in a douchey manspread with one arm resting on the backrest while the other holds open a paperback at the base of its spine. He’s wearing some shorts and a plain enough tank, topped with a mismatched snapback, lazily thrown on backwards. 

He’s not wearing shoes.

“Jonny?” Kaner asks tentatively, as soon as he’s in earshot.

Jonny’s nose wrinkles in acknowledgment but he waits a moment to finish his paragraph and dog ear his page. Only then does he look up.

“Oh, it’s you,” he blinks, “Kaner, right?”

Hands shoved in his pockets, Kaner nods. He juts his chin at the emptier half of the bench. Jonny raises an eyebrow at him but nonetheless scoots until there’s room for Kaner to settle in, too.

It’s a nice view of the sunset rippling over the ocean but it’s an even nicer view to Kaner’s right, where beautifully toned arms are displayed against the blue of Jonny’s tank. 

“Off duty?” Kaner hums, studying the horizon.

Jonny makes an agreeable noise, book tucked under his arm while he follows Kaner’s gaze and traces the horizon for himself. “Yup,” he finally sighs contently. “It’s been a long day.”

Kaner laughs mirthlessly and steadily agrees. “Same here, man, same here.”

“What? Life getting rough at Sigma Apple Pie?” Jonny chirps with a little smirk

Rolling his eyes, Kaner admits, ”I dunno, I’m not allowed to participate.”

Jonny nods. “Understandable.”

“So my roommate kicked me out. Wants me to get fresh air. Can’t say it’ll get any fresher than here,” Kaner muses.

“Nope,” Jonny agrees, “fresh as it gets.”

They continue to people watch as the sun gets lower and the pinks and yellows and oranges of the sky fade into magentas and indigos and deep reds. The waves continue to lap the shore gently enough, soothing the sands into submission. It’s relaxing.

It’s relaxing but it doesn’t last forever. It’s dark soon enough, the vendors finally packed up and the boardwalk nearly deserted for the night. 

Jonny stands up first, lazily stretching out the kinks and cracks. 

Kaner stands up not a moment after, figuring that’s his cue to go. He’s about to turn and head back, mouth open for his goodbye, but then--

“Hey Kaner,” Jonny says while fighting a yawn. “You gotta be back any time soon?”

Kaner blinks then shakes his head.

“Then let me buy you a drink,” Jonny smiles, toothy and bright and pure, “and I’ll teach you how to spot a jellyfish.” 

Kaner opens his mouth again, ready to square up, but Jonny just laughs and laughs, as if he’s just told the best joke in the world. Kaner can’t even chirp him on it, already reluctantly pulled into Jonny’s infectious laughter. 

“Fine,” Kaner grins, “but it’s gotta be jello shots and jellyfish. Or no deal.”

Jonny grins even wider, almost like it’s a competition. He punches Kaner’s arm lightly and motions for him to follow.

“Deal.”

 

 

 

_End. (for now)_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so sorry for the kinda unfulfilling abrupt ending, I might come back and write a sequel with more ~plot~ and smut haha but I really wanted to get this out in time for the fic fest! 
> 
> The prompt I used was **“I’m sorry, but that stranded jellyfish you’re trying to save is actually a plastic bag.”** as part of the Game Four prompts.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought!
> 
> Come find me on twitter, @[pinkmanite](http://www.twitter.com/pinkmanite) or tumblr, @[yammertime](http://yammertime.tumblr.com/)


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